Hallelujah
by tassy0928
Summary: Hope was beginning to seep into Daphne's bones. Maybe she wouldn't have to be the sacrificial lamb. Maybe both Greengrass girls would get to live tonight.


**Author's Note:** This is an AU story with mature themes. Please be advised.

This chapter was written for the "1k in 1 Week" challenge issued by the Facebook group "**The Slytherin Cabal (18+ Only)**" (search this on the site to join!). Word prompts were: straw, distinct, society. It was supposed to be near 1k in words, but I drastically obliterated that. Opps.

* * *

_**"And it's not a cry that you hear at night,**_  
_**it's not somebody who's seen the light-**_  
_**it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah."**_

**Hallelujah | Jeff Buckley**

* * *

Daphne Greengrass was running- no, sprinting- down a stone hallway, fighting the urge to look behind her in an effort to avoid tripping over debris. It wasn't an unusual sight given the battle-worn state of Hogwarts. Everyone inside the centuries-old castle had been waiting with bated breath for the last shoe to drop for months. Tonight, with the sudden reappearance of Harry Potter and his friends, it finally had. However, despite what it may look like, this particular Slytherin wasn't running _away_ from anyone, but rather leading someone astray. A literal warzone might not usually have been the ideal environment for what was shaping up to be a very deadly game of cat-and-mouse, but to her, it was the perfect scenario. It was the chaos that made it so, along with her father's rather predictable and explosive temper coupled with his inability to let a blow to his ego go.

'_Men and their pride,'_ her mother had told her once, '_It'll be the death of them.'_

She'd just managed to hide her sister away in a secret corridor near Gryffindor Tower and get a few halls away when their father had spotted her. Enraged that his daughters had run away from him upon spotting him earlier in the night, he diverted from whatever he'd originally been doing to stalk after her. That had been nearly fifteen minutes, four staircases, and three floors ago. Hope was beginning to seep into Daphne's bones. Maybe she wouldn't have to be the sacrificial lamb. Maybe both Greengrass girls would get to live tonight.

Hope gave way to the fantasy just long enough for it to really hurt when reality smacked into her in the form of two redheaded men. All three bodies tumbled to ground, knees and elbows thwacking against the cobblestone floor. Daphne quickly extracted herself, a horrified look etching itself onto her features when she realized who they were, "No, no, no. You can't be here!"

"Well, 'scuse me, Greengrass, but your lot's not won yet so I reckon we can be anywhere we like," Fred Weasley replied, his tone full of teasing despite the circumstances. Percy, who Daphne recognized as the obnoxious Head Boy of her first year, shot his brother a questioning look.

A familiar looking man was creeping up the corridor to their right, behind the boys, and she could hear her father call out from behind her. She knew that he'd kill them just for kicks if he got close enough to recognize them. The hall to their left was still empty. Her voice low and tight, she snapped desperately at them, "Run, Fred!"

He didn't listen. Or perhaps he just wasn't quick enough in reacting. Either way, they were blocked in on all sides before they realized what was happening.

The nasty snarl of Allard Greengrass's voice was almost as frightening as the downright deadly look on his face, "What are you waiting for, Daphne?! Kill the sodden boys! They're blood traitors!" When her response wasn't a quick, pointed killing curse aimed at the redheads, Allard snatched the back of his eldest daughter's neck, manhandling her until she was staring up at him, "You will do as I say, you good for nothing twit, or you can bet you'll regret it. Better yet, I'll be sure Astoria pays the price for your sheer stupidity tonight."

Daphne Greengrass had always followed the rules set forth by traditional Pureblood society. She did as she was directed. She never objected or complained. She always looked presentable no matter the time of day or occasion. She achieved perfect marks in all of her classes. She allowed Marcus bloody Flint to court her without one single grumble despite not being able to stand the man. She had never, not once, embarrassed the Greengrass name- except that one time, at birth, when she'd been born a daughter instead of a son.

Above all, though, Daphne had always protected Astoria. It was her most sacred job as an older sister, even if it meant safeguarding her from their very own father. Even if it meant taking the blows herself. She had spent their entire lives teaching Astoria each and every survival technique she had learned by trial and error. She etched the importance of keeping up the facade that was being Allard Greengrass's and of the Perfect Pureblood Daughters into her sister's mind. On the occasion that the youngest of them misspoke or stumbled, even just slightly out of line, it was Daphne who bore the brunt of the fallout. It was worth it, she promised, because one day all of the deception and compromised morals would convince Allard that they were nothing more than the puppets he meant for them to be. It would keep them safe until it was _finally_ time to fight back.

Staring up at her father, Daphne's heart told her that it this was it. It was time. It was now or never. She spoke slowly, making sure Allard heard her loud and clear, "No."

Neither of the men who'd appeared in the hall with him, the ones with their wands aimed pointedly at the two Weasley brothers, could help the shocked expressions that flashed across their faces at her simple, short response. They had been at Allard's side since their very own Hogwarts days and knew firsthand how hard it was to defy a man like him. They also knew what came of it. On more than one occasion both men had suffered at his hand. They'd also found themselves wishing they had children as compliant as the Greengrass girls.

Percy shot Fred a look, but the younger Weasley hadn't taken his eyes off of the strawberry blonde since she'd rounded the corner. When she'd first appeared, toppling into them with wild eyes and a flushed face, Fred hadn't taken her seriously. It wasn't until she'd said his first name that he'd realized that she wasn't just putting him on. In hindsight, it had been bloody stupid of him. They were, after all, in the middle of a battle and she was his enemy.

He could feel the wands aimed at them, but he was more concerned with the one aimed at her. He and Daphne had somewhat of a unique relationship. It was clandestine for the most part; secret glances, covert and flirtatious conversations in the library, and morning runs that usually ended with each of them rushing to yank their clothes back on when too much time had passed.

There was something else. Fred couldn't quite explain it, but he'd always felt like she was trying to tell him something without actually saying it. Each time they'd run into one another, either inside or out of Hogwarts, he'd find himself drawing out whatever conversation they'd find themselves having just to see if she'd finally say it. She'd always been so closed off when it came to talking about her parents or home life. When he'd voiced the concern to his eldest brothers Bill and Charlie one year, they'd scoffed- everyone knew the Greengrasses were the epitome of evil.

'_Be careful, Freddie, she's probably been instructed to corrupt someone close to Harry,' Bill had said, 'I know she's a looker, but don't be the one who falls for that sort of thing.'  
_  
It was fairly obvious to him now what she wasn't saying.

Allard's grip loosened just long enough for him to shift his hand from the nape of her neck to her throat, his fingers closing painfully around it as he positioned himself in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she registered Fred and Percy shift, though they were easily manipulated into stopping by the raised wands. Allard snarled, his teeth showing, "Did you just tell me no, girl? You must have gotten-"

Abruptly, Daphne jerked her knee upwards into his groin. The shock of the action, and undoubtedly the pain, caused him to loosen his grip on her entirely as he doubled over. She took the opportunity to snatch his wand out of his hand, snapping it in two as she backed up. Her own wand was brandished and pointed at him before the pieces of his own had managed to clatter against the stone. In the flurry of the moment, Fred and Percy were able to disarm their own opponents.

"You stupid bitch! I've had it! I'm going to kill you-" Allard roared, righting himself before his daughter cut him off once more with a perfectly aimed spell. Suddenly he was clutching his own throat, gasping for air.

Daphne flicked her wand just slightly, and whatever invisible force was choking Allard seemed to tighten. She shook her head, "Not if I kill you first." Another flick and his face was cherry red. He was barely dragging in any air at this point, "I want you to know that this was all the doing of a dead woman."

His eyes widened, clearly knowing exactly who she was talking about, "N-no! Shhhe-" he coughed- "c-c-couldn't have!"

Fred recalled that once, despite her usual avoidance of any conversation involving her family, that Daphne had told him that her mother had died. Fred, ever curious about the eldest Greengrass girl, had done some digging on the subject with the help of his twin. Turns out, Daphne had been the one to find her. The Daily Prophet quoted a 'source close to the family', saying, "_It was poor little Daphne who found Francesca- the girl's only seven. She came 'round from the back gardens covered her blood. She'd been running from the neighbor boy, playing chase, when she tripped and fell over her mother's body and into the pool of blood. Apparently, she jumped. There was so much blood. Even Daphne's hair was tinged red._"

Fred had tried to imagine it then. Daphne's hair was a warm blonde; the color of straw after a light rain. He couldn't quite conjure up an image as horrific as a seven-year-old Daphne Greengrass covered in her own mother's blood, stumbling inside what was no doubt some grand manor, desperately seeking help. At least, he couldn't imagine it until now. He suddenly had a sinking suspicion that perhaps the paper had gotten the story wrong- maybe Francesca didn't jump to her own death, leaving her body for her children to find. Maybe she was pushed.

"Oh, but she did. She left instructions, see, in case she was to suddenly cease to exist, and I've followed them flawlessly," Daphne flicked her wand, this time more violently, and Allard began to turn blue as his eyes bulged, "You are not untouchable, father, and you are finished causing harm."

Neither Percy nor Fred moved to stop her. With a final jerk of her wand, a distinct CRACK was heard amongst those left in the corridor as Allard's neck snapped, his body falling to the floor and head angled unnaturally.

One of the two men raised his wand and screeched, "BLOOD TRAITOR! DAPHNE GREENGRASS, YOU ARE A-"

Fred, without thinking, raised pointed his wand at the man and said, "Obliviate!"

Open-mouthed, Percy stared at his brother. Fred didn't seem to notice as he turned to the other man, repeating the word, and then turned to look at Daphne. All she could manage to do was look at him and say, quietly, "Fred?"

The war raged on around them. Fred didn't know what to say, at a loss for words for the first time in his entire life. Percy, for his part, seemed willing to overlook the entire situation when an explosion rocked the hall they were standing in, "Go get your sister, Greengrass, and come find us when the war is over. I'm sure you'll figure out a way!" They could figure this out later- you know, assuming they all survived.

Daphne didn't need to be told twice. She shot the Weasley boy's a look of gratitude before turning, sprinting off in the direction she had come.


End file.
